


Clay Vitaar

by TheBorgiasDevil



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Sex, Bathing, Beach Kissing, Fingering, First Time, Long and Slow Preparation, M/M, Oral Sex, Post-Ashaad's Death, Pre-Ashaad's Death, Qunari Camp, Wounded Coast, multi-chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-05-25 10:24:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6191368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBorgiasDevil/pseuds/TheBorgiasDevil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Saemus disappears briefly after a day of hard work at camp, Ashaad finally accepts just how important the young man is to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by KimliPan

Ashaad looked out over the cold, rocky beach at the man kneeling by the only fire within a half mile. From here he could smell the fish the human somehow managed to catch, and watch him strip them of their scales with the back of a knife. His richly colored sleeves were rolled up, exposing arms that fell victim to the jagged edges of the rocks around them. Despite the bruises and cuts that littered his pale, thin arms, the human continued working, ignoring the discomfort to finish the task he’d been given. As Ashaad made his way closer he noticed the man’s black hair was now sticking to his forehead, wet with sweat and sea water. 

Any human would have screamed and run at the sight of the Ashaad, but not this one. Where most bas lived selfish and closed lives, this man had opened himself to the Qun, embraced it, and abandoned the ways of his forefathers. Here he had order, confidence, rules which were handed down by the very nature of the world. 

This human was not like others. 

“Kadan,” the Ashaad said quietly, watching as the man lifted his gaze. He smiled lightly in the reserved, intelligent way that Ashaad recognized as charming. “Have you never scaled a fish before?” he asked, judgement clear in his voice as he walked up behind Saemus. 

A small chuckle came from the smaller creature and he shook his head. “It’s my first time catching a fish as well.”

“You’re... embarrassed,” Ashaad said, watching Saemus’s hands tremble as he worked against the scales. “Like all skills, learning to wield a knife takes time and work.” He sat down behind him in the gravel, still a full shoulder and head above the man whose ears burned red. “Like this.” He cupped one hand under the small one that carried the fish, then wrapped his fingers around the one that held the steel handle. He turned the blade over in their unified grasp, slipping the edge under the scales before flicking them off in a fluid motion. 

“Do not fear the blade, you wield it, it will not betray you,” he said, repeating it before releasing his hands. “Again.”

Saemus nodded and followed the example given. It was far less clean, but effective, and Ashaad nodded. “Better.” 

He watched the human clean off the rest of the fish, working through them quickly, gaining confidence with each swipe of the knife. “Very good, Kadan,” he said, grasping him by the shoulders once he finished. 

Saemus shifted in front of him, turning so his side was resting against Ashaad’s stomach and lower chest. His eyes were open and up, staring in a wide and impossibly blue gaze back at him. A shimmer on his cheek caught Ashaad’s attention, and he reached up to swipe a scale away, then paused when Saemus rested his face into his palm. 

Ashaad felt a delicate hand rest on the back of his, keeping it close. “When the people tell tales of the Qunari, they speak of your violence, your law, your stubbornness,” he said quietly, “but in my time spent with you I've felt more freedom and purpose than at any other moment in my life.”

He watched Saemus close his eyes, then turn to press his mouth against the creases in his palm, a blush red on his pale skin. “It's because bas lack purpose,” he explained to the man, curiously allowing his hand to wander down his face till he was able to run a thumb over his lips. “You're always doing unnecessary things.” His stomach grew heavy as Saemus’s hot breath brushed his skin. “Even now you do it.”

“I don’t,” Saemus said quietly, then reached up to stroke Ashaad’s horns, holding them lightly. The feeling was strange to the Qunari, who’d never been intimate enough with anyone to feel their touch on them. 

“Unnecessary.”

“I've no horns to touch, Ashaad. I can only see and feel yours.”

“You're a human, horns would defy your nature,” Ashaad explained, pushing Saemus’ hair off his forehead, exposing his full face. 

“But do you think I'd be more appealing with them?”

“With horns you'd be Qunari,” he said. “If you were Qunari, there’d be no Saemus, no Kadan.” He looked down at him, watching the human as he did something peculiar.

The grip on his horns tightened, pulling him down so their faces were close enough that he saw bits of sand on his cheeks, red from the sea and a heavy blush that reached from ear to ear. Then his mouth, small and soft and sweet, was over his. 

There was a moment of peace between them as Saemus kissed him gently, releasing his horns partway through. Moments later he felt those small hands slip into his hair. Something hot and tight in his chest, an unfamiliar feeling to the Qunari, ached as Saemus pulled back and looked up at him. In the next moment Ashaad pushed him down into the rocky beach, forcing Saemus’s mouth open with his tongue, bearing down on him the way a proper Qunari lover should. Beneath him the nobleman was compliant, willing, his chest rising as his hot breath drove the Qunari ahead. The hands that once rested on his head now grasped helplessly at his shoulders, holding him close as the Ashaad pulled away. 

“Does this mean the same to humans as it does to Qunari?” he asked, gazing at the flushed man, his face now smeared with vitaar. After a bashful nod, Ashaad was back on top of him, one hand tucked under his head to protect his delicate skin from the rocks so he could deepen the kiss without fear of breaking the fragile creature who submitted so readily. 

He wasn’t sure how to feel about the reason for Saemus’ affection, but the mouth that kissed him back pushed all other thoughts from his mind. The smell of the sea faded, replaced by the richness of the human musk, the cold gravel that dug into his knees forgotten by skin that warmed and flushed under his hand. Unable to continue without seeing Saemus’ face, he parted from him and grabbed his jaw gently. 

“Kadan,” he breathed, staring down at the human who panted helplessly beneath him, “tonight you will share my tent.” Saemus tensed, so he kissed him again, keeping it slow and gentle until the nobleman clung eagerly to him. “Nights at shore are cold, you will keep warm with me.”

What thoughts crossed the man’s mind, Ashaad didn’t know, but he watched patiently as Saemus looked over out at the sea then nodded. “I’d be honored to accompany you tonight,” he said softly. 

“For all nights,” he corrected, then lifted himself off Saemus and looked down at him, one hand extended. “Now, on your feet, there is work to be done before nightfall.” 

For the rest of the day, the Viscount’s son worked hard, catching, cleaning, and cooking enough fish for the entire camp. By sundown Saemus had gone to each of the fires that now burned and handed out sticks packed with roasted fish and bowls of clear broth to go with the hard bread they bit at miserably. As everyone settled in, however, the human was nowhere to be found. 

With food enough for them both to enjoy in private, Ashaad walked to the water’s edge, following the sounds of quiet splashing. Tucked away, in a large tide pool surrounded by rocks was Saemus. His clothes, rinsed of fish remnants and beaten by rocks, were laid out on the sun-warmed boulders to dry.

The young nobleman stood naked in the water. 

Ashaad settled himself down and watched curiously as Saemus struggled to clean his skin and hair without any tools or assistance. He watched quietly, realization slowly dawning on him as Saemus sniffed his own arm, nose wrinkled with disgust. 

“Parshaara. Does your kind also not bathe yourselves?” he asked, watching as a red-faced Saemus recoiled with surprise before ducking down. 

“How long have you been there?” he asked. 

“Long enough. Get out of there, if you want to wash you need to get in the aban and- I will show you,” he concluded suddenly when Saemus seemed frozen with uncertainty. When he stepped over the the pool Saemus pulled back, hands covering his groin, eyes wide. 

“Give me a moment of privacy, please,” he asked, pursing his lips. 

“Hiding your defransdim does not mean I’m unaware of it,” he said, reaching over the rocky sides of the pool to grab Saemus, hooking his hands under his armpits to hoist him up and out of it. 

A small smile formed at the sound the man let out as he was lifted into the air, then dropped to his feet. 

“Come, to the water.” 

Saemus, compliant as ever, followed him out into the shallow sea till the water reached up to his calves. 

“Do you know what lies below the rocks and sand?” he asked, turning around to see Saemus shake his head. “Clay.” He dropped to his knees and buried a hand in the seafloor, then lifted it up to reveal a fistful of black clay. “Wet your hair.” 

He watched, mesmerized, as his pale form walked out until the lazy waves broke around his hips. The only sign of hard work on him was what he’d earned since preparing to convert to the Qun, otherwise his smooth skin was free of blemish or mark, clearly pampered with rose water and oils. Thankfully the muscles beneath were healthy and firm, a sign of a man who ate well but did not laze as other high-borne men seemed to enjoy. Just as Ashaad found himself staring at Saemus, he disappeared into the water, then stood back up. Without thinking, Ashaad walked over to him hard under his cloth, but stuck to task by pushing the clay into Saemus’s soaked hair. 

“Scrub this in.”

There was something satisfying about watching a human noble rub himself down with clay and mud, black liquid dripping down his face and arms. Others may have seen it as disgraceful, but Saemus maintained his dignity, bending over so he could work the clay through his oily hair. 

“What now?” he heard Saemus ask, head dropped down, presumably to keep it from getting in his eyes. 

“Rub it into your arms, then you may rinse.” 

After an awkward nod, Saemus massaged the mix over his arms, then dropped into the water. Ashaad took the moment to reach down to run his hands through his hair, expertly helping to free the thick black from his scalp. A few dips later Saemus was clean, no longer smelling of unwashed man and fish. 

“I’ve heard of clay baths,” he said with a chuckle, flicking wet hair out of his face. “I never imagined a Qunari would give me one.”

Ashaad nodded and watched Saemus look down at the hardness that hung between his thighs, then avert his eyes with a red face. “Get used to the sight, Kadan, especially if you plan to continue this habit of bathing under the light of the stars.” He tucked a hand under Saemus’ chin and lifted it to stare possessively down at him. 

As curious as ever, Saemus smiled and raised his head, independent of the hand that could so easily take control. “It’s a relief to know,” came his words, soft and hushed over the sound of the waves. 

“None of the dathrasi in your life have ever claimed you?” he asked, surprised, though he did not let it show on his face.

Saemus, still staring up, shook his head. “I’m the Viscount’s son, there isn’t a man alive who would dare touch me.” 

“Cowards,” Ashaad said, gripping Saemus’ soaking wet hair, admiring the way he bravely maintained eye contact through the insult to his people. “I will revel in the result of their weakness.”

Then Saemus’ hands were on him, spreading over his chest, fingers brushing and dipping intimately over his skin. “I’m cold, Kadan,” he whispered, and the Ashaad’s chest heave with a heavy and excited breath at hearing the soft voice speak Qunlat. 

He lifted the nobleman easily into his arms, their dinner forgotten as he carried Saemus to an abandoned fire that burned low and soft in the quiet camp. Most everyone had finished their meals and were now sleeping, affording them a moment of privacy that Ashaad knew his soon-to-be lover was grateful for. With Saemus warming himself at the fire, Ashaad stopped at his tent and prepared it for two bodies, then grabbed an extra bed cloth and returned to drop it on the nobleman’s dark hair. 

“Dry,” was his simple order, and the human complied without hesitation, perhaps even with a hint of eagerness that didn’t go unnoticed by the Qunari. 

Without being asked, Saemus stood, the damp sheet hung over his shoulders and head. “I’m ready,” he said, blushing shamelessly under the makeshift cowl, hands holding the fabric so it covered his front but did little to hide his erection. 

Ashaad stepped over, hands pushing the hood off to expose Saemus’s face before bringing the fabric down to his waist. He held tightly onto either side and jerked it forward, forcing Saemus against him with the sheet tight over his backside. 

“Are you certain?”

Saemus’s breath was hot against his chest as he nodded, then planted a few small kisses over his heart. “My only concern is that I will disappoint you.”

“Work hard and that won't be an issue.” 

Ashaad lifted Saemus up by his thighs so they were at eye level with each other, then carried him to their tent.

He knelt, then with a gentle toss Saemus was on his back among the thick furs that lined the bottom of his tent, exposed and flushed and deliciously helpless. Ashaad unfastened the loose cloth around his own waist and dropped it to the floor at his feet. He stood and watched Saemus drag his eyes up his body, his gaze pausing at the full and heavy erection the Ashaad proudly thrust forward before those blue eyes that finally stared up into his. 

“I cannot claim you tonight,” he explained, “a male takes many nights to prepare for a qunari.” He waited for Saemus to nod before continuing. “And I have never kept a lover. You have the honor of being my first, Kadan.”

There was a small smile on Saemus’s face, and he nodded, leaning back to spread out in the fur. Dark hair trailed down his stomach, thickening as it dropped down to an equally obvious hardness that arched up and rested on his belly. There was enough room in the tent for the qunari to take a few small steps forward, feet pushing pale legs apart till Saemus gripped the bedding tightly, eyes shut.

“Look at me,” he ordered, trying to keep his voice calm and relaxed. When his partner gazed up, lids heavy and face flushed, the warrior swelled excitedly. “Open your legs. More.” He waited till Saemus was out of his way so he could sit cross-legged between them. “Tomorrow I will need to get some oil for us, this will have to do for now,” he explained, grabbing a pot of thick cream used to remove vitaar. 

Saemus peered down, but the Ashaad worked out of his sight. “What are you going to do?”

Ashaad lifted two fingers coated in the heavy white cream for Saemus to see. “Tonight we start to prepare you,” he said, watching with pleasure as the human nodded bashfully. 

“But what about you?” 

“I do not need both hands to stretch you,” he explained plainly, confused. “Unless you would prefer it.”

“Actually, I was hoping I might be able to.” Saemus sat up, then folded his legs under him as he leaned in to kiss along Ashaad’s jaw, then down his neck and chest. Soon he was back on his knees, head dropping lower while his rear remained high and accessible to the Qunari. 

He wanted to indulge himself, to watch his fingers invade the smaller body, stretching him out while pleasing him, but that was no longer possible. Saemus’s hot breath was on his crotch as long fingers slipped under to rub and massage his testicles, dragging a long, deep groan out of the Qunari. An open panting mouth wrapped around the head of his cock, inexperienced but wet and eager in Saemus’s aroused state. He knew he’d be too big for Saemus to take in just yet, so it was no surprise when the man tilted his head to the side and ran his tongue along the sensitive underside of his cock. 

It became difficult to focus once curious hands and lips were on him, stroking him while Saemus kissed and licked the head of his cock. “You’re distracting me,” he grunted, reaching over the pale body to rub his fingers in the dip between Saemus’ cheeks, keenly aware of his own sharp nails and the damage they could do to him. “If I injure you the fault is your own,” he said, pressing two thick fingers in. 

The hand that rubbed the base of his cock squeezed and his partner gasped, back arching as he was forced open.

“If you cannot handle this now then I’ll never mount you,” he grunted, pulling his fingers out slightly before gently pressing them back in. 

“No, no I can handle it,” Saemus panted. 

It was clear he couldn’t handle the pain, but Ashaad trusted his word and made the decision not to stop. “Continue with your mouth,” he ordered, developing a slow even pace of sliding in and out of Saemus. 

The nobleman’s mouth was clumsy around him, but the sensation of a warm tongue and trembling hand kept him entertained, though orgasm was far off. Eventually the muscles around his fingers began to loosen, and well contained groans of discomfort softened. Within a few minutes Saemus was pushing his hips back to meet his hand, lips wrapped around his cock once more. Out of curiosity, the Qunari sped up his thrusts, forcing them deeper into the willing and pliant creature who moaned loudly in return. 

“More,” his lover panted, blood swelling into the length that Saemus now stroked vigorously with both hands, mouth sucking wantonly at the head. 

He heard a loud groan, barely registering that the sound came from himself, and grabbed one of Saemus’ full cheeks, holding it open to give him better access to his entrance. A third finger wasn’t easy to force in, but once he added the extra digit his lover was crying and moaning his name. 

“Pleasure yourself with one hand, it should help with the pain.”

His ears turned red, but soon only one solo hand was stroking him, the other presumably now between the nobleman’s legs. 

“Your mouth,” was his simple command, and Saemus was back to work.

With a little bit of time and practice, the human managed to get most of the head into his mouth while his hand squeezed and stroked the entirety of what he couldn’t get to. Ashaad didn’t mind, not when his tongue flicked along the tip, sending shivers up his spine each time he teased the slit. His resilience began to crumble, as did his control, and he started to slam his fingers into Saemus while twisting and turning his hand to get new angles. Every now and then his partner would moan, each sound coming louder and quicker than the next.

“Catch it in your hand,” Ashaad panted, grabbing his head to push it down, “I’ll let go in your mouth.”

Within moments the mouth around him whimpered as the muscles tightened, gripping his fingers hard. Despite the effort made, Ashaad easily forced himself in deeper, drawing a groan from Saemus as orgasm rippled through him, his hand working hard to keep the semen from dripping onto the fur below them. 

Once Saemus was satisfied, Ashaad gripped his own cock and stroked it a few times along with the weak and trembling hand before releasing himself into the tired mouth. Like a proper lover, Saemus swallowed, and he allowed his fingers to slip out of the warm hole, promptly wiping his hand off on the damp cloth used as a makeshift towel. 

With the passion between them fading into quiet satisfaction, Ashaad took the chance to look down at his lover’s face, now resting tiredly on his thigh; cheeks flushed, lips swollen, lids shut with brows just slightly knotted together. When he brought up a hand to stroke a bit of hair out of Saemus’ face he noticed just how much bigger he was than the nobleman who tried to catch his breath. 

“You are very important to me, Kadan,” he said, surprised by his own comment as Saemus opened tired eyes to look up at him. 

Small lips formed a tight smile, then quietly whispered the words, “I love you too, Ashaad.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by Kimlipan

Ashaad was unable avert his eyes from his human partner, even as Saemus worked on menial but necessary chores to keep their large camp running smoothly. Small hands tended wounds, skinned kills, and completed other tasks suited to his size and strength. By then almost everyone within the camp was used to the human presence, even asking for his assistance with their duties when his dexterity worked to their advantage. 

To help prepare dinner, his deft hands cleaned a cache of clams and mussels, legs tucked carefully under him, now cushioned with a flat pillow provided by some unknown donor. 

Ashaad knew without question that most of these skills were learned here, under Qunari supervision, but Saemus never complained. In the beginning they’d given him unwanted chores to see if he was serious about converting, but no matter how undignified the request, he completed them with grace and without question. Ashaad, along with many of his companions, originally believed that Saemus would give up and return to a life of comfort and wealth. Not only did he remain, but his enthusiasm for hard work only seemed to grow with time. Now he never had to be told to do something, he simply saw an issue and fixed it before it became a problem for others.

Any desire he had for chatter or flirting was to be saved for after the camp was set for the night, and Saemus appeared to understand and accept that. Despite that, it seemed as if every time Ashaad looked over to check on his lover, blue eyes were already on him. 

The evening couldn't come fast enough.

Finished with his daily responsibilities, Ashaad walked through the quiet camp to find the Viscount’s son. As usual, the human sat staring out at the ocean, perched up on a rock to keep his feet dry as the evening high-tide slowly rode in. 

He never understood the human desire for contemplation and over thinking, in his opinion it slowed them down and made them weak. 

“What plagues your mind today, Kadan?” he asked, stepping through the cold water to rest a hand on Saemus’s back. The body beneath his hand expanded and trembled as Saeumus took in a heavy breath. 

“I fear what my father will do if I do not return to Kirkwall soon. I know he grows desperate with time,” the voice came out in a hesitant whisper, “perhaps I should go back.”

 

Ashaad shook his head, then followed Saemus’s example and looked out into the horizon. “Do not give in to him. If he or any others come to take you back, not only will I stop them, but every warrior here will fight to keep you safe.”

“You don’t need to keep me safe,” Saemus replied, leaning against the hand Ashaad kept steady on his back. “If anything, the worst he will do is guilt me for abandoning the Maker.”

 

“Threatening your beliefs and values is an assault on your very person,” Ashaad explained, massaging the tense muscles under his fingers. “Mental attacks are an underhanded means of wounding your opponent. It’s dishonorable, and it’s the way your kind wages war.”

Saemus was quiet for a long moment, then looked over at him, eyes filled with some emotion the Qunari couldn’t name. “I wish I could be as strong as you,” he said, resting a cool palm on Ashaad’s chest, “to see everything so clearly.” 

“You’re learning,” he argued gently, placing his hand over Saemus’s. “There are still many habits you need to be corrected on, but even I see how far you have come.” 

This made the human laugh, though his face grew serious mere seconds later. “Can we go to bed?” His voice was thick with hesitation, punctuated by his knotted eyebrows and hands that balled into fists. Something about the response felt different, and Ashaad inspected his face carefully in the hopes that he would see what Saemus was trying to hide.

“Yes,” he answered, giving Saemus a hand when the human put one out to help balance himself as he slid off the rock. 

They walked quietly back to their camp, Ashaad’s hand on his partner’s back. The heat and passion of previous nights was absent from the tense human. He was distracted, uneasy, and tense, three things utterly unsuited to a night of pleasure. 

When they got to the tent, however, Saemus rounded on him, grabbing him roughly by the front of his pants. Slim fingers slipped into the space between his buckle and his skin, sending a small tremor down his back. 

“Please,” Saemus begged quietly, pressing against him with a strength that surprised the Qunari. On any other night the sudden lust and desire of the small human might have been irresistible and exciting. Tonight, however, it sent a sturdy warning to Ashaad. Saemus wanted to be conquered and devoured, but doubt still existed within him. 

“No,” Ashaad said, grabbing Saemus’s wrists, pulling them away from the front of his pants. “Not tonight. This desperation is unbecoming of you, and I will not take advantage of that.”

Saemus flushed and looked down, tugging lightly against Ashaads grip. “I’m not desperate.”

“Do not argue with me, Kadan,” he plainly, then released the hands once Saemus stopped struggling against him. “Sit, I need to tell you something.”

As always, Saemus did as he was instructed, and seated himself comfortably against the side of their tent, eyes still downcast.

“Look at me when I speak with you,” Ashaad ordered. Saemus wavered, and the qunari frowned at the refusal. “Lift your gaze. Human interaction is nonverbal, it benefits you to see how my face changes when I speak.”

The sides of Saemus’s temples flexed as he swallowed, then he finally lifted his head.

“Straighten your back, in here we are equals, carry yourself as I carry myself.”

He watched in silence as Saemus corrected his posture, breathing through the process of presenting himself the way a Viddathari should: with the pride and confidence of a natural born Qunari. 

“Acceptable,” he said with a small nod. For a moment Saemus smiled, then the expression was gone, but Ashaad trusted what he saw and decided to let the moment pass. “I’ve received new orders from the Arishok. I’m to separate from the main camp and map the coast for his use.”

Saemus’s shoulders fell slightly, but a frown and glare instantly got the man to correct his form. 

“I’ve been given permission to take you as my companion for as long as it takes for me to complete the task.” He watched Saemus smile once more, though this time the expression remained. 

“So this will be the final step? I’ll be allowed to fully convert once I complete this last betrayal?” His voice came surprisingly soft and weak, making Ashaad frown. 

“Is that how you see all of this, Kadan? Betrayal?” 

This made him think, and he waited patiently for Saemus to organize his thought and find his own opinion on it all. “The ship you wait for, the one to take you home, if I help you with this will you take me back with you?” 

Ashaad pulled back, slightly annoyed by the question. “You are mine, you will stay at my side, leaving you behind for these bas to humiliate is not an option,” he answered. “Unless that is your choice.”

“No. No, I cannot stay here, not with how far I’ve come.” A soft blush spread over his pale cheeks and Ashaad reached out to run his fingertips over the silent communication as Saemus stared back at him. “I’m too attached to let you leave without me.”

“Keep that passion,” Ashaad commended, then pulled him forward to kiss his forehead. “It’s one of the few respectable things about mankind, and in you, I find it particularly strong and admirable.” He grabbed the human’s chin and forced it up so they could see each other clearly. “Never let any man or beast take this from you.”

Saemus nodded lightly, his full lips parted enough to drive the qunari over the edge of control. He barrelled forward, pushing Saemus to the side and onto his back, kissing him hard and deep while pinning him into the fur coverings of their tent. 

“Do qunari choose one lover?” Saemus asked breathlessly once Ashaad finally pulled from his mouth. 

“It’s more common among Tal Vishoth,” Ashaad answered, laying down beside him, one broad arm draped over Saemus’s small frame. “I never considered it an option for myself.”

Saemus pressed against his chest, shivering slightly. “Will you now?”

“That is an unnecessary inquiry.” His reply was short, hard, but he knew from experience that Saemus would probably misinterpret the simplicity of his answer. “I’ve already declared you as my companion to the Arishok, lover or no. Now stop asking foolish questions. Tomorrow we leave camp, and you need rest.”

He watched Saemus settle himself in, waiting to close his own eyes once he was sure the human was asleep.

The following morning greeted them with rain and a heavy breeze that rustled the tents. As always, the qunari worked together to gather their supplies to prepare them for their trip. Ashaad was grateful for the help, though expressing that gratuity was left to Saemus, who openly showed his appreciation through profuse thank you’s and a bright smile. If he’d known any better, Ashaad might have thought he’d seen disappointment in some of the warrior’s eyes. Saemus came to be a welcome sight among the Qunari camped along the coast, so much so that Ashaad heard whispers that the Arishok was more than just content with the human presence. 

They walked the familiar edge of the coast, their efforts at drawing the map dampened by the rain that grew harder and colder with each passing moment. 

“We should settle in for the day,” Saemus called out, his face red with windburn, “there’s nothing we can do while it’s raining.”

Ashaad agreed, frustrated at the turn of events. “We will walk until we find a suitable cave, but beware of spiders, Kadan. I will not lose you to venom like some fool.”

 

Saemus’s laugh carried over the wind, and Ashaad glanced over his shoulder back at him. The man was standing with a oilcloth held tightly over his head and pack, keeping only the necessary things dry. The rest of him, however, was soaked. He knew that humans were far more prone to illness and disease, so getting him somewhere warm and dry was not only important but necessary. 

The next cave they found was mostly empty, save for a few spiders that fell easily under the Ashaad’s sword. As he slaughtered them, Saemus disappeared, and while Ashaad cut up the rotten animals his partner returned with armfuls of bark and driftwood that survive the brunt of the storm. Getting the damp wood to light took a few hard flicks of flint on steel, but eventually a modest flame grew, and Saemus brought more wood to sit by the fire to dry. 

By mid-afternoon their packs were spread out, still damp but not soaked like they were upon their arrival. Even Saemus rested mostly naked on a roll, shivering against Ashaad who held him close. His clothes sat by the fire, and the cold air blowing up from the inside the cave hit them almost as hard from the wind of the storm. 

“Do you know any qunari prayers?” Saemus asked quietly.

“I know many qunari prayers,” Ashaad answered, running a hand through soft hair just so he could hold Saemus’s head closer to his chest. 

“Can you teach me one?”

Ashaad looked down at him, then stared up at the ceiling. The words were ones that he’d remembered, each one coming easier than the last as he recalled the chant. At his side, Saemus repeated the words after he spoke, so he kept the pace slow, correcting mispronunciations when they happened. After a few moments the main verse of his favorite prayer was over, and his lover relaxed against him. 

“They were beautiful. What does it mean?”

“They are our prayers for the dead. In battle, we chant it out, and those with any will left in them find the strength to keep fighting. Those who do not rise remain as they are, corpses, to be disposed of.”

Saemus closed his eyes and Ashaad felt him rest his entire weight against him. “Thank you.” 

“I do not understand what you are thanking me for,” Ashaad replied; it was one thing he couldn’t get used to. 

Saemus propped himself up on the Ashaad’s chest, smiling lightly. “I like it when you tell me about the Qunari and the Qun, it’s one of the few things you ever speak with me about.” 

Ashaad shrugged and closed his eyes, idly rubbing Saemus’s back as he enjoyed the feeling of the human’s weight on top of him. Saemus shifted where he couldn’t see before a soft hand rested on his face. Warm breath brushed his cheeks, lips, then a curious and confident mouth pressed over his own. Keeping his eyes shut, Ashaad pushed a hand into the hair on the back of Saemus’s head and pulled him in close while the other wrapped around the human’s small waist. 

They kissed for a long moment as Ashaad enjoyed the softness of his partner’s skin, feeling it under his hands as they started to roam in long, slow sweeps over his back. Unlike their last time, Saemus was proud and comfortable, not unsure with old wounds festering inside him. 

With one swift move, Ashaad rolled, pinning Saemus down by his upper arms, leaving the man’s hands free and chest exposed. He was clearly blushing, his skin splotching with red down to his shoulders and collarbone. 

“Human bodies are so honest,” he commented. Under normal circumstances it would definitely have been an insult, but seeing Saemus so open and needy beneath him gave him a slightly different perspective. 

“We’re alone out here,” Saemus breathed, and Ashaad found himself staring at the heavy rise and fall of his chest. Pink nipples were hard in the cold air, daring the Ashaad to take them between his teeth. He did, pressing his lips over the bud before dragging his tongue over it. Beneath him, Saemus groaned loudly and arched his chest up against his mouth, and Ashaad responded by biting down. Instead of a stifled groan, Saemus gasped and grabbed at his arms, then cursed softly. The sound shot straight between Ashaad’s legs, and he raised his gaze to see what expression the human wore; Blue eyes were wide, brows knotted together with his lips parted and his cheeks red. 

He wanted to hear it again, that low groan that started at Saemus’s belly before rolling up his chest, so he bit down again.

“Please,” came his gasped response, driving away some of the reason and control Ashaad managed to reign in. He gripped the slender waist beneath him, dragging his loose pants down to expose strong pale thighs and white underclothes. With a firm tug he freed Saemus’s legs, then held them open by the knees to give him a view of his lover that he greatly appreciated. 

The outline of Saemus’s hard cock was clear beneaththe thin fabric of his underclothes, and Ashaad stared down, admiring the way his lover’s stomach rose and fell above the hem of his smalls. He ran a hand over the soft skin, watching as it dipped where he touched, then spread his fingers out. From the tip of his pinky to the blunt end of his thumb he stretched over the entire length of Saemus’s waist, much to his own amusement. 

Without thinking, Ashaad let out a low growl and pressed his nails into the skin beneath his fingers, then dragged his hand downward, leaving five red lines in his wake. Hips shifted as Saemus let out a cry, his body rolling pleasantly up against Ashaad’s hand. 

Satisfied with the now desperate sounds coming from his throat, Ashaad rewarded Saemus by leaning over to press an open mouth over the cock that was now barely contained in the cotton. Another loud cry echoed around him and Ashaad responded by looking up at Saemus who grasped desperately at the fur bedding beneath them. “What did I tell you before?” Ashaad asked as he pulled down the underclothes, exposing Saemus completely. 

Saemus’s face reddened as Ashaad slowly licked up the entirety of his shaft, and it took the young man a moment to realize what he was supposed to do. Just as before, Ashaad let out a satisfied groan when he felt small hands grasping at his horns, then went back to running his tongue up and down the stiff cock that presented itself so beautifully on Saemus’s belly. With Sameus no longer fussing about for something to grab, Ashaad was able to focus on drawing out more moans and pleas from his small lover. 

He reached into the pack beside them and pulled out a glass bottle filled with a clear massage oil. This, he thought, would be better than the cream, and would provide a little more comfort for Saemus in the end. With a flick of his thumb the cork popped from the lip, and he poured a generous amount over his fingers, surprised by his own heightened excitement at the thought of claiming his human partner. 

“Part your legs,” he panted, kissing and nipping up the pale thighs that opened and spread without question or complaint. Unlike last time, two fingers slipped into Saemus with little resistance, but that did not stop the bas from letting out a slightly pained gasp. Hesitating would only elongate the process and Saemus’s discomfort, so Ashaad started thrusting the two digits deep into him while soothing the ache by licking his cock once more. 

“Maker!” Saemus moaned, and the grip on his horns tightened, angling his head so his nose pressed into the dark hair that gathered between Saemus’s legs. The new position gave him the perfect chance to wrap his lips around the swollen red tip, daring Sameus to rock his hips up. Ashaad grabbed him and held him down with his free hand, driving his fingers harder into him while Saemus struggled against his hold.

“If you continue to fight against me I will stop,” he threatened, stilling his hand with his knuckles pressed against the crease of Saemus’s ass, fingers still deep inside him.

“Maker please, keep going,” Saemus gasped, the hands on his horns trembling. “Ashaad, I’ll lay still, I promise.” 

Ashaad searched his face for lies, but all he saw was a young man teetering on desperation and pain. “I will not ask again,” he threatened, then pressed in a third finger and watched as Saemus’s back arched up off the floor. That, he deemed, was an appropriate response, and continued the thrusting of his hand while his mouth sucked on the velvety hard head of human cock. 

With his relentless fingering, Ashaad felt Saemus’s entrance slowly beginning to soften, with each push easier than the last. Using the slippery oil was clearly the better choice, and soon Saemus found the preparation enjoyable enough that Ashaad no longer needed to suck him to clear away the pain. While he was eager and excited to feel Saemus around him, Ashaad knew that any rushed penetration could seriously injure or scare his partner from ever laying with him again. To make sure he was ready, Ashaad pulled his hand away, leaving the oily and needy mess of a man completely exposed beneath him. 

“I do not wish to hurt you, but neither of us can wait,” he panted, staring down at Saemus who could only nod in reply. “You remember my size, do you feel safe having that inside of you?”

Saemus gazed up at him, the lustful fog lifting from his eyes in thought. “I-I want you, Ashaad, Kadan,” he whispered, releasing his horns before resting his cool palms against Ashaad’s face. “If it hurts too much I will tell you, but I feel it, I know that I’m ready.” The hands on his face pulled Ashaad down, and he allowed it, moaning when Saemus kissed him gently on the lips. 

His tongue slipped into Saemus’s mouth, kissing him deeply to help distract the man from the fuss between his legs while Ashaad pushed down his loose pants and slicked up his cock. To help more with the distractions, he moved his oiled up hand to Saemus’s length and squeezed before starting long and slow strokes. With Saemus now focused on the fist around his cock, Ashaad finally pressed into him, breaching his entrance and sliding in completely in one swift and merciless move. The cry of pain was lost between their lips, and his hand around Saemus now worked faster to help draw him from the edge of agony. 

This time it was Saemus who parted from their kiss, sweat dripping down his temple as he struggled out his words. “I’m fine, I can handle this,” he panted, wrapping his legs around Ashaad’s waist, drawing him in closer. Ashaad complied by releasing the cock and leaning over so their stomachs were flush. Even in this position, with Saemus folded beneath him and Ashaad hunched over him, the Qunari still manage to be a satisfying head taller than his human lover. A face pinched with pain turned up to gaze at him, swollen lips open.

“I’m yours.”

Ashaad felt his own face heat up, a sensation utterly new and indescribable to the Qunari. The feeling left him exposed and open so he focused on beginning long and hard thrusts into him. The form beneath him arched as he set an even and focused rhythm of pushing almost completely into him, slowly pulling out, then filling him up once more. Soft groans of pain morphed into something needier and lower, and suddenly Ashaad wasn’t sure of whose voice was reaching his ears. 

Unsatisfied by the depth of his thrusts, Ashaad righted himself, pulling Saemus’s legs out from around his waist so he could hold them straight against this stomach with the heels of his feet resting against Ashaad’s collarbone. 

To keep Saemus in place Ashaad grabbed the thick muscle just below his knees. The new angle allowed him to watch as he disappeared entirely into Saemus’s slender body, which only heightened his desire to make his lover squirm and pant and scream beneath him. Burying his cock deeper into him with each brutal thrust filled him with a satisfaction he’d never felt before, and with Saemus now jerking at himself with both hands he realized how hard the bas was enjoying himself as well. 

New thoughts filled his mind, dirty and unnecessary desires to see Saemus bring himself to release, then to fill up the human with his own seed. He wondered if these these thoughts bordered on challenging the Qun, but then Saemus let out a loud moan, hips rolling to meet Ashaad’s, and he forgot his worries. 

“Please, please,” he heard, words panted through kiss-swollen lips as the Viscount’s son grasped at his own hair with one of his sticky hands, the other still working frantically at his red and swollen cock. Ashaad cursed, slamming brutally into the human who responded by screaming his name, toes curling. “Ashaad, I’m- I-” Saemus struggled out, words interrupted by each and every unrelenting and almost violent thrusts of his hips. 

Ashaad shifted his grip lower on Saemus’s thighs with a hold that bruised his pale skin, but gave him better control to drag him closer to meet every one of his thrusts. “Stop fighting it. Allow yourself release,” he grunted, the new pace drawing sweat to his skin.

“But I don’t -ah-, I don’t want to stop,” Saemus gasped, holding the base of his dick so hard his knuckles turned white. 

 

“We will be on this coast for a long time,” Ashaad assured him, snapping his hips forward to pull out another strangled moan. “This will happen again, you have my word, Kadan.”

A hesitant nod and a few hard strokes were all that separated Saemus from the promise and his orgasm. With his lower half under Ashaad’s control, the human only had the freedom to move his arms, which he used to pleasure himself, drawing long strings of semen out onto his stomach until there was nothing left to squeeze out. 

He watched, mesmerized by tear soaked dark lashes and lips that wanted to form words but couldn’t, though the sudden tightness around his cock should have gotten more of his attention. Beauty was almost a foreign concept to Ashaad, limited mostly to admiration of nature and a compliment of one’s willpower. But here, with Saemus squirming as he was pounded into, Ashaad found the common word coming to mind as the only way to describe his human lover. 

Once he was certain Saemus was done, Ashaad allowed himself the same satisfaction, pumping into him with a speed that made the human’s breath hitch. Orgasm hit the Qunari hard and he let out a long growl as he finished, his cock buried as deeply into Saemus as he could manage at the end of each snap of his hips. With satisfaction, Ashaad slowed his thrusts as he softened, then slipped out of Saemus when his lover relaxed. 

Carefully, Ashaad lowered Saemus’s legs to one side, silently rolling the human so he could embrace him from behind. They laid like that for a long time, both trying to catch their breath all while pressed closely together. In the end, it was Saemus who broke the silence. 

“I may need some time to recover,” he said with a chuckle, grabbing one of Ashaad’s arm so he could wrap it around himself, kissing his knuckles with tender lips. 

“Of course. This is why we do not take bas as partners, you are simply too fragile. But you did well, Kadan,” Ashaad explained, kissing Saemus lightly on the back of his head. “Take the time you need, but we cannot stay here long. The Arishok needs his map, and you need to prove your determination to him.”

Saemus nodded, the motion slow and tired. “I will. But can I admit, that it’s your approval that matters more to me?”

Ashaad thought for a moment, watching as Saemus rolled over so they were facing each other. “No.” Not to anyone but me, he thought. 

Saemus gave an understanding but quiet chuckle, then nodded. “It will be our secret then,” he replied softly, curling up against Ashaad’s chest. 

For a moment Ashaad was sure he heard Saemus whisper something else, his voice barely louder than the breathing that followed as the human fell asleep in his arms. There was a moment where he debated on waking him up to make him repeat himself, but Ashaad was certain he’d have a lifetime to make Saemus say those words over and over again.


	3. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is currently unbeta'd as my beta reader is currently working on her dissertation. When this does get beta read I will make edits. Until then please bear with me.

There was a softness about the human he found oddly endearing. It wasn't a result of weakness or a life pampered by those who wanted his father's favor, rather, it was an openness to see the world the way it truly was, and the way it should be. He’d already proven he was a survivor, and for a human, he didn't let grief take control. 

The man’s small body moved in his sheets, shifting slightly until black hair stuck out from under a pale arm, illuminated by the first hint of sun. He rested one of his grey hands over the forearm that covered Saemus’s head, running his nails gently over the soft inner skin of his wrist. 

“Rise,” he said, keeping his voice low and soft. “Your duties as the Viscount's son start at daybreak, before then they belong to me.”

Saemus shifted, rolling onto his back so he could look up with sleep-clouded eyes. For a brief moment his gaze filled with relief, then his anxiety settled in. “Forgive me, for a moment I thought you were-”

“I know,” the Arishok sighed, running his fingers over Saemus’s cheek. “You grew too attached, now you must face the consequences.”

Thin fingers slipped between his as Saemus dragged his hand over to kiss his knuckles. “Human attachment is natural, it will take me a long time to unlearn.”

“You have time when you are not with me,” the Arishok replied, leaning down to give Saemus a light kiss on the forehead. “For now, you will assist me in preparing for the day.”

Still nude from the previous night, Saemus got off the bed, utterly shameless of his natural state. The Arishok took advantage of the chance to sit and watch the man pull a long robe on, his slender body dotted with fading bruises and welts from the vitaar. He never imagined taking a human partner, much less a young man, but he found something particularly enjoyable about him. Perhaps the Ashaad who educated him on the Qun was more successful than the Arishok gave him credit for.

Or this was the role that Saemus was meant to fulfill. 

For the matter of the Ashaad, he wasn't certain why Saemus offered himself up in the wake of his lover’s murder. Loneliness seemed to be a factor, but there was something else hidden behind his occasional smile. Perhaps it was to prove something to his father, or to ease the tension of the city using his charm and wit. Whatever his reason, the result was the same; the Arishok felt slightly less inclined to order the slaughter of every human of Kirkwall considering his bed partner was one of them. 

Once Saemus was covered he stood behind the seated Arishok and started the ritual of preparing him for the day. Gentle fingers massaged a thick oil into the roots of his thinning hair before pulling it back. The attention bordered on intimacy, but Saemus’s focus was not to be broken. Even as the wax was applied to his horns the hands that gripped him were only as firm as needed, nothing more. 

Then his ornaments and vitaar were added. The usual method was quick, with minimal contact and little attention to detail. Saemus, however, took his time, polishing each piece of gold before adorning the Arishok with it. Even the bands on his horns shimmered after a rub with a soft cloth.

Using a variety of brushes, Saemus leaned in unbearably close to make sure each stroke of vitaar was perfectly placed. With every line of red, the human painted his chest with the symbols of his status, his ranking, and his power. 

“If I could wear vitaar, what design would I be allowed to use?” Saemus asked quietly, his breath hot on the Arishok’s chest.

“We would find one that matched your title,” he said dryly, eyes on the face that turned up to him. 

The smile that appeared then vanished was small, merely a flash of the eagerness he’d seen in the human before. It was difficult to understand what he imagined, what with all the unnecessary baggage humans were prone to keeping. There were methods for clearing the rubble, to make someone see and think beyond the moment. 

With a firm hand he patting his thigh. “Join me.”

Obedient as ever, Saemus rose to his feet, then seated himself with each leg on either side of one of the Arishok's knees. Skin peeked out from the slightly open robe, and with a long, slow sweep of his hand he pushed the fabric off one shoulder. Almost instantly, a hot red flush covered Saemus’s chest, and he dropped the other shoulder as the Arishok slipped the rest of the robe off, letting it pool around Saemus’s hips. 

Rather than turn away shyly, Saemus faced him, his face flushed. 

“You’re sore from last night,” he whispered, dragging his hand down Saemus’s stomach, his nails leaving angry red lines in their wake. 

Between whimpers and moans, Saemus managed a small sound of agreement, then gasped as the Arishok pushed his hand between the man’s legs to fondle him over the loose robe. It was no wonder the Ashaad became so entranced by him. Without much prompting the young man was rolling his hips, eyes begging for more contact while his mouth was unwilling to ask. Lesser men, foolish men, had missed the opportunity to see and touch and taste all that the Viscount’s son had to offer.

But it wasn’t just the sex. 

Saemus was intelligent and kind in a way the Arishok didn’t think humans were capable of. Unlike his weak and feeble Father, Saemus’s mind was truly that of a leader. With some grooming and hardship to build his confidence he’d grow into a man who’d bring real change to the festering city of Kirkwall, change that it desperately needed. 

A gasp drew him out of his thoughts as Saemus’s thighs tightened, his hips trembling with effort to keep still. “Don’t fight it,” he breathed, rubbing the stiff end of the cock with his thumb. 

“I want it to last,” Saemus replied, resting his hands on the Arishok’s shoulders, finger gripping tightly. 

He did too. The passion the human offered up so readily was hard to find with his own people, but the Arishok knew this couldn’t last forever.

Soon, Saemus’s desperate moaning softened, and the man leaned forward to rest himself against the Arishok’s painted chest. He enveloped Saemus in one of his arms, holding him close, savoring the moment as the sun’s rays filled the room in a pale light. This meant their time for the day was coming to a close. Saemus would return to his room, acting as if he’d spent the night in his own bed, as if his sweat hadn't stained the Arishok’s sheets that very evening. 

This was the way it had to be, for now. Peace talks and treaties. Pleas from the Viscount for them to leave the city. Saemus sneaking between rooms. All of it would continue until the humans of Kirkwall slipped. 

It was impossible to say when it might happen, or what it would be, but he could feel it coming. Violence beat in the heart of the city, its blood those of the tormented and fallen, so one day the wrong person would be a victim of that mindset-

An unwilling sacrifice to kickstart a war.


End file.
